How do you learn to live?
Marcelina didn't have a childhood. She didn't have a life. She was a piece in a machine she had no control over. So once she got out- once she was given all the things she never thought were possible- she finally began to u...
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MARCELINA Alinovia had always liked ballet.
The training was long and excruciating but when each person was put together they clicked like the perfect puzzle.
It was beautiful and precise. Every step, motion, and breath was perfectly timed.
She breathed into the moves as she lifted her arms and moved her legs to the beat of the songs that flowed through her mind.
Her concentration broke when she heard the door open. Continuing to perform the moves, she glanced over at the man approaching Madame B.
They spoke in hushed voices for a few seconds before she turned to address the room.
"Stop." The girls stopped mid-turn, quickly forming a line and looking at the floor the same way they'd done so many times before.
"Marcelina, come." Only a moment of hesitation was safe. Her soft pink point shoes that tied up her ankles clicked with each step she took.
She followed Madame B and the man into another room, she'd been here before. Dreykov's office.
"My Lina," He started, "How was today?" She didn't respond.
"сегодня утром кто-то встал не с той стороны кровати." someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. He placed her folded-up black suit on her lap. "У меня есть миссия для тебя." I have a mission for you.
She looked at him as to tell him she was listening. He placed a picture of a woman with dark red hair, full lips, and big eyes on her lap.
She was pretty.
Dreykov pulled her chin, so she was forced to look at him. He tucked a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "Kill her."
~~~
Cool cement brushed against her cheek.
Over the years, she had learned to ignore the ache in her knees from so many hours of unending surveillance work.
Marcelina's eyes followed her target as a bird follows its prey. Her black suit was perfectly tailored to her body as every Widow suit was. The Avengers wore bright blues and reds that made people look at them. Widow suits were made to allow them to blend into the darkness.
Her body creaked in protest as she stood from her spot on the top of an apartment building. The woman-her target-Natasha Romanoff, was standing up from her table at a small cafe and beginning to walk away while talking to someone on her phone.
Marcelina slid down the side of the building, jumping onto a dumpster, then the hard ground. She followed Natasha from a safe distance into a long alley.
"Do you always hide in the shadows? Or just when you want to get caught?"
She stopped. But she wouldn't back down.
"What? No snarky come back?" Natasha turned around, gun drawn.
"No."
Then they were on each other. The two women were both exceeding talented fighters; the only problem was they'd been trained in the same way.
Marcelina would wrap her legs around Natasha's neck and slam her to the ground, but Natasha would see it coming and be able to strike back with equal force.
"Stop fighting," Natasha seethed, holding Marcelina pinned against one of the walls with her forearm pressing just below her neck to keep her there.
"Tы знаешь, я не могу этого сделать" You know I can't do that.
"Не будь глупым" Don't be stupid.
Marcelina pulled up her knee and kicked Natasha off her. She dropped to the ground and, using a sweeping motion, pulled Natasha's legs out from under her with her own.
"Вы можете сказать себе, что вы изменились. Что ты лучше меня, чем все мы. Но ты никогда не станешь больше, чем просто убийцей." You can tell yourself you've changed. That you're better than me, than all of us. But you'll never be more than a killer.
Something in Natasha's face changed. For the first time, she looked... scared. "I ended the Red Room. I killed Dreykov."
"You can't honestly be that stupid, Natasha Romanoff." Marcelina's words dripped with a thick Russian accent. "The Red Room will never end. You should know that better than anyone."
She pressed her knee onto Natasha's arm, one of her hands gripped her wrist tight enough to draw blood.
"You don't have to do this. If you let me go, I'll get you out. You won't ever have to go back there. If you let me go... you're free."
"But It'll never end. Will it?"
Natasha's back arched, a pained gasp slipped from her lips. Marcelina felt the familiar warm energy begin to leave her opponents body. White light seeped from between her fingers as Natasha came closer and closer to death.
Just before the final bits of her life energy had drained from her body, a solid force hit the back of her head, and everything went black.
~~~
I know exactly what you dirty minded whores were thinking during that fight scene.
Also this is just the tip of the iceberg for her powers but I call them life energy manipulation
